And What a Happy Holiday it is
by Muffin Is Injured
Summary: Here it is, the longawaited one shot to tide you over for your Muffinpangs while I gallavant around Europe without you. It's a What in the World if? fic on 210, Bracebridge Dinner... and GASP it now goes differently! What a CONCEPT! JavaJunkie.


_Get ready to feel LOVE because the Muffin has returned!_

_Okay, I have exactly 1 day until I depart for Europe and leave you all behind, crying for a month in the fetal position. So this one's gonna be short. Hey, better than nothing, right? I would've posted this earlier, but since **DARLING** FanFic decided to delete Video Killed the Radio Star and stop me from posting for a week, this is the absolute earliest I could do it. I leave tomorrow. Be brave, my dears. For the children if nothing else._

_Also, I don't know if people are actually reporting me to get my stories deleted, but please cut it out. For one thing, it's very inconvenient, but I keep going back to the guidelines and reading over it, and I am completely legal in every way. I swear. So please just stop it. You know, oy with the unnecessary reportage already._

_This is a **one-shot **involving the gorgeous episode **2-10, The Bracebridge Dinner**. What do you mean, an episode can't gorgeous? Shut up, you, it's beautiful to me. Anyways, this episode is where Luke and Lorelai take that sleigh ride. And _I_ think a little somethin' more coulda happened there, ya hear? And I am here to take care of that for you all. I know, don't thank me, it's what I do._

_Shameless self advertisement… join Hannaism, my religion, along with my second-in-command, Jombles McFloobenheimin. It's totally awesome, and she is seriously physically MAKING the Hanble, the book of Hannaism. I personally think she's crazy, but the cover of the Hanble is SO amazing, I can't be mad. I laughed for 20 minutes. There were tears in my eyes. Seriously. I had to bang my head on the desk several times. And I am not exaggerating. It's PLAID, for God's sake. And IO wasn't planning to put her email adress here, but she's told me I was allowed to at least four times, which I think shows some desire on her part for me to put it here. I don't know if email addresses show up here normally. It's _LilBravesFan023 _AT_ _netscape DOT_ net. _She says to email if ya have questions._

_ And also, the crowning glory... although this one-shot is shorter than my usual fics because, well, it's a one-shot, it's three times as long as a normal chapter. So basically it's like a 3-chaptered story you get to read all at once! My, my, I AM glorious, am I not?  
_

_And the glorious **disclaimer**: I totally own all of this. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. The authorities are LYING! Amy Sherman-Palladino is a FRAUD! And those men with the giant butterfly nets are simply my partners with whom I catch overgrown butterflies! I am NOT a mental patient!_

_(serious face) This story is dedicated to my **The Big Cheese**, wherever she may be, who has been AWOL and MIA since Chapter Three of Thank the Cavemen._ _Ah, I love military jargon. And the word jargon._

Shouting of the outs (because we all know that when it comes to me and author's notes, bigger is better! And that's a dirty!)…

**Pink-x-Moonlight**: Love at first sight, huh? My blinding wit can do that to people. Dead on interpretations! Ranting fan! Jealousy! This is my kind of review! (squeals a lot) Leave more, please. I got you to drink milk? The power I possess startles even me at times…

**pOnDeReSQUe:** I have no idea when you'll be reading this, on account of the senior citizen field trip you've been dragged along to with no means of escape as you're surrounded by water and the rip-off internet connection people who charge you 10 euros. I appreciate that you had to pay much money to review! Gah, I hate small talk. It's like in Road Trip to Harvard and the "mind-numbing, soul-deadening chit chat" that Rory had to endure while Lorelai escaped. It'd be so weird to work together on one show and then again on a different one (aka Lauren and Scott). I like the over-use of the word hilarious. Millions of lapdances for your troubles, I promise you. I started laughing at the mental image of you giving each solitary letter a lap dance. That's the funniest thing. Like a huge overgrown letter getting a lap dance. An 'h' would be easy, but how would you give an 'f' or a 'q' one? I am extremely bloody grateful.

**Izzpuppy**: You are insane, my friend, and I love it. Your review is insanity personified (besides me, of course). Yes, I am Amy and Lorelai. That means the wit of both COMBINED in one neat Hanna package! Wow, dirty sounding. Well, jumping from p to z would be a problem if there was an actual word with a p and a z in succession. Maybe q and ? if I was saying "Cynthia, do you ever plan on visiting Iraq?" And I'd have to do the shift for the question mark, so it'd get really messy. But I don't know anyone named Cynthia, so that's not a problem either. The cookie memo was from **FanOfLOST** who felt bad about yelling at the infamous Anon so they handed out cookies to people. I'd count you as one of the ramblers I fostered, yes. I let you breathe and use your talent. I didn't stifle you, I let you grow. I thought about Jackson being bias when I wrote that too! Excuse me, did you just say you don't write long reviews? Have you SEEN your reviews lately? They're gigantaramous! Because you review EVERYTHING! The other day I saw a guy take a mint from a restaurant, and I winced for him.

**Krys33**: We should totally write that book. But I don't know how to polka either. Squirrel gifts? That is great. I want that advertisement. My old art teacher, Ms. Bloom (who we called Ms Doom because she was such a bitch), was OBSESSED with squirrels, and when we got our year books, instead of signing it, she would put a squirrel stamp. It was hilarious. I threw watermelon at her car once. It was white. (The car, not the melon. It was still red, as most watermelons generally are.)

**FanOfLOST**: For some random reason, your name was on my paste. Anyways, of course you don't have to go to church! The grovellaciousness of most religion irritates me, so Hannaism is for whenever you feel the need. And we're not just worshipping God or whatever who, might I add, never seems to find the time to answer back- we're worshipping me. And I always answer back! Hanna- 2, God- 0. I'm back, I'm back, so put that spork away, unless you're planning to eat noodles or something with it. What do you eat with a spork?

**Epona9009**: I'm back, so no going insane, please. When Luke and Lorelai broke up, I went into my sister's bed and we cried EXTREMELY loudly for about half an hour. My parents came up from downstairs because they heard the loud, high pitched shrieking and thought maybe we were dying or something. We were merely dying on the inside.

**Orangesherbert7**: Wow. Little self obsessed, aint we? More of ME! I remember the hovering. A bunch of people and I wanted to steal a golf cart at this fancy mother's day party. We almost did, but alas, we didn't. Have you squealed with delight yet? Never ending cycle of two very obnoxious but well-loved songs. Fun!

_Shorter Shoutings go to… _**Rusty Baby Honey** (Tiny yippy puppy, got it. And why aren't you calling me girly anymore? Do you really want me to start ranting about rice again? I think not. For the preservation of your own sanity, please continue to refer to me as girly.), **Anwa** (Hey, man, Hannaism is very open to that sort of thing. Dual religions are cool. Because I'm the ruler, I get to decide, so I've just declared you a Hannaist. Jezette is a good stripper name! Cool idea, by the way, the bible irritates me too.), **Victorialeigh** (Filling fluff! Wow. That's the most awesome oxymoron ever, and it applies to me! My wit and humor are truly amazing? (blushes) Aw, geez, stop that. Parentheses in parentheses!), **Jennalynn** (That would be a Hanna crown, missy. No h. I'm very sensitive about that lack of h. But I will, however, accept the jewels. Fine, skip the muffin, but you don't know what you're missing out on.), and **Bloodymary2 **(You're right, I was mocking you! You learn fast, grasshopper. You know, if you melt, you probably won't be able to type as well. I love the Buffy musical.)

_**Lukelaiandroryndean, Izzpuppy, Epona9009**, **Fairest Gold **(woah, very Outer Limits-y…GOO) **Bloomin Daisy** (the fishsticks sent me an appreciative fruit basket the other day)** FanOfLOST, annarod **(you're UBER-fantastic),**ultimategilmoregirl** (agreed, sticks of fish are very ingenious) - _fishsticks right back atcha, babes

* * *

**And What a Happy Holiday it is**

Chapter… oh WAIT, there aren't any chapters! Because it's a one-shot!

"_Hey, you in the belt - get in."_

"_What?" Luke turned and saw a grinning Lorelai sitting alone in a sleigh. "Oh, no, I was just sort of checking things out…" he stuttered._

"_Come on," wheedled Lorelai. "We can pull a Ben Hur and take down Taylor's sleigh."_

"_I don't know, I..."_

"_Aw, come on, Luke. I can't be all school marm-y and ride by myself. Please?" Lorelai flashed him a gorgeous smile._

_Even standing in a foot of snow, Luke went warm. "Well, okay," he said, getting in next to her._

* * *

Lorelai tossed the blanket over both of them, her fingers tucking the edges under their legs. She rubbed her fingers together in anticipation. "Good choice, my friend, because you are in for the ride of your life." 

"It's two horses pulling around a metal box with people in it," he reminded. "I think I'll hold off on getting out the barf bags just yet."

"Whatever you say," shrugged Lorelai. She squealed as the sleigh jerked into life. "And we're off!" She sighed, looking around her. "I love the snow."

"Yes, frozen water falling on the streets, prohibiting people from getting around- snow up to their necks and freezing their asses off- it's simply delightful."

"Even you, the reincarnation of Ebenezer Scrooge, can't say that you don't like winter at all, even a teeny bit."

"Less business for the diner and more trouble starting my car?" He shook his head. "That's a big downer for me."

"Well, yes, but it's so pretty when it snows." Lorelai sat quietly for a few seconds, apparently thinking, before she turned to Luke, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"No," said Luke firmly.

"No? What no?" asked Lorelai.

"No, I'm not doing whatever you're about to ask me to do."

"And what makes you think I was about to ask you to do anything?" scoffed Lorelai.

"I can tell. And the answer is no."

"No is such an vulgar word, don't you think? I prefer the term 'unfortunate refusal to an unreasonable request.'"

"Call it whatever you like. I'm not doing it."

"Ah, but the request isn't unreasonable, therefore there should be no unfortunate refusal."

"When it comes to you, it's always unreasonable."

"I resent that," said Lorelai, pouting a little. Luke lost the warmth of her leg next to hers but gained a delightful view as she stood and leaned forward. "Hey, excuse me, Mister Driving this Sleigh Person."

Mister Driving this Sleigh Person turned slightly. "What can I do for you, ma'am?"

"Do you think you could possibly stop the sleigh here? My friend and I need to get out."

"Sure thing," replied Mister Driving this Sleigh Person amiably. He slowed the horses as they came to the square, the shadows of all the snowmen looming.

"Thank you. You're the best sleigh driving person I know, and I don't just say that to anyone," said Lorelai. She turned to Luke. "Come on," she ordered, stepping down awkwardly onto the snow.

"What are you doing?"

"Going to Vietnam to follow my true calling of becoming a foot doctor," said Lorelai, as if Luke should have known. "Can't you tell?"

"Whatever you say," said Luke, the snow crunching under his boots as he reluctantly left the sleigh. Lorelai linked her arm through his. "Follow me."

"You've got an iron grip on my arm. I don't think I have a choice."

"You learn fast," said Lorelai approvingly as they walked through the snow.

"At the risk of receiving the answer 'Vietnam,' where are we going?" asked Luke.

Answering his question only with a wicked smile, they walked a little further until they were near the lake, the trees overhead. "We have reached out destination," announced Lorelai. "Please remain seated until the seatbelt sign goes off."

"And what exactly will we be doing here at our destination?"

"Well, I'm glad you asked, Lucas. We are going to bring the magic of snow into your heart."

"Are we now?" said Luke, lifting his eyebrows a little in amusement.

"Yes. Now down onto the floor."

"Excuse me?"

"We are going to make snow angels."

"I don't think so," said Luke.

"Well, I do think so, and since I organized this little soiree, my word is final. We are making snow angels."

"Ah, but I am the point of this soiree, therefore I should be able to decide what I will and will not do. And I don't think dragging me into a blizzard and ordering me to get on the floor and drag my limbs around in this dirty slush counts a soiree."

"On the floor. Now."

"Bossy, aren't we," muttered Luke as he gingerly lay down in the snow.

Lorelai stood above his head, staring down at him. "Now move, cadet."

"Hey, this was your idea, I'm not snow-angeling alone." He grabbed her hand and tugged her down next to him.

"This coat is suede!" protested Lorelai, brushing flakes off her damp back.

"And do we still think the snow is beautiful?" smirked Luke,

"Shut up, you, and snow-angel. Apparently you've declared that a verb now."

* * *

Luke and Lorelai stood above, staring down at their creations. 

"They're kind of… formless," mused Luke.

"No they're not!" argued Lorelai. "Just because they lack heads and appendages…"

Luke rolled his eyes. Lorelai bent down and drew a circle above the area that the Luke angel's head would most likely be.

"What is that? A death ring? Is that, like, a voodoo doll made of snow?"

"It's a halo, of course. You bring me coffee and feed me and only protest mildly when I drag you into your least favorite element. You're an angel, and angles deserve halos," finished Lorelai decidedly.

"If you say so," said Luke. Arguing with Lorelai was pointless. He kneeled down and made a circle around Lorelai's head.

"You sure about that? I think I deserve little snow devil horns more," said Lorelai, chuckling. Luke shrugged. "Aw, Luke, you old softy," crowed Lorelai.

"Yeah, well, whatever," said Luke eloquently. "Are we done here?"

"Not even close," said Lorelai, shaking her head. "According to my itinerary, it's time for a snowball fight."

"Oh, come on, what are we, eight?"

"You're never to old to assault another grown human being with frozen water, Luke," said Lorelai wisely. She bent down and grabbed some snow, packing it into a ball. "You better get your own snowball or I'm going to throw this at you now."

Luke sighed, defeated, and bent down. Before he even had a chance to get up, a snowball whacked him in the behind. He jerked up. "Hey!"

"Gotta think fast to be in this business, kid."

"The business of snowball fights?" He received another snowball in the face.

"Wow. I have aiming skills!" squealed Lorelai, clapping her hands excitedly. "Who knew?"

Luke spluttered, spitting the snow out of this mouth, then got another hit on his shoulder. Lorelai frowned. "Hmm, I should work on that."

Luke tossed the wad of ice in his hand towards Lorelai, who shrieked and ducked. "By gum, this boy's got an arm!" He threw another one that went down the front of her shirt.

Lorelai screamed. "Gah!" She bent forward, trying to fling the snow out of her shirt before she froze. Luke tried not to look but failed miserably. "Luke, you are in possession of pervert snow," she panted.

"Sorry, I couldn't tell. It doesn't have any distinguishing pervert snow markings or anything."

"It's okay, you didn't know!" He shot her a stare for the weird way she said it. "Brink."

"Of course."

"Okay, snowball section of this day is over."

"You know, I bet those horses are freezing their legs off out there," he said, hoping to get this over with as soon as possible.

"Oh, Mister Driving this Sleigh Person is taking care of them," she said, with a careless wave of her hand. "Now we move on to the most important part- snow cones."

"You're not serious."

"On a whole, no, but I am right now."

"You have no idea where that stuff has been!"

"Yes, I do. It's been right here." She motioned to the ground. "Snow doesn't get the greatest gas mileage. It tends to stay in one place."

"Yeah, but- I mean, it's got tree sap and people walking through it with dirty boots and dogs peeing in it…"

"Heh. Luke said 'dirty.'" Lorelai scraped some snow from a bank and scooped a large amount out with her tongue, swallowing it down. "Come on, Luke, doesn't it look good?"

"Well, it looks good when you do it," said Luke, a half smile on his face as he leant against a tree.

Lorelai shot him a sultry look and scooped another large amount out with her pointed tongue. "Try it, it's good," she said, raising her eyebrows seductively.

Luke poked a tentative finger into the snow, getting about two grains of it on his gloved finger, and nibbled at them quickly.

"There. That wasn't so bad, now was it?" cooed Lorelai.

"I bet I have cancer now or something," said Luke, wrinkling his nose.

Lorelai rolled her eyes. "You can eat as much of this stuff as you want and nothing will happen, excluding a numb tongue and/or brain freeze." To prove her point, she took another large bite of the snow in her hand… and instantly started gagging, spitting the snow out. "Crap! There's a pine cone in here!"

Luke started laughing. "Ah, the wonders of nature," he said with a smirk as Lorelai coughed violently.

Lorelai shot him an evil look. "Screw winter magic. It has not been kind to me today. Let's go to the diner for some _liquefied_ magic."

"What about the dinner?"

"Oh, the sleigh rides are scheduled to go on for a while longer." She slipped her arm through his again. "Lead the way, kind sir. This portion of the evening belongs to you."

* * *

The familiar jingle of the door sounded as Luke and Lorelai entered the diner. Lorelai rubbed her hands. "Ah, dear, sweet warmth. How I've missed you so," she said into the heat vent. 

"Do you want to continue making love to my heat vent or would you prefer coffee?"

"Can't I do both?" said Lorelai, revealing red indents on her face from where it was pressed lovingly against the vent. She sighed. "Fine, I'll take the coffee for now." She turned back to the heat vent. "But don't think I've forgotten about you, Jeremiah. I'll be back."

Lorelai sat by the counter as Luke poured a stream of delicious dark coffee into her mug. "You know, I've had a debate with Sookie. She doesn't believe that coffee can actually be pretty."

"Coffee isn't pretty. It's a liquid, a beverage, a form of hydration."

"That's where you're wrong, my friend. Coffee is one of the most visually pleasing substances I have ever come across. It's all dark and mysterious with those little bubbles around the edges you get from pouring it really fast and…"

"Did you just say mysterious?" cut in Luke.

"Yes. There's something about the reflection of the light off the coffee and the way it moves that gives it a certain level of mystique."

"There's nothing mysterious about coffee. It kills you. I feel that's pretty straight-forward."

Lorelai sighed. "I can't discuss this with you. You're not open to new knowledge." Lorelai pulled off her gloves, hat, and jacket, warming her frozen fingers on the heated mug. "Boy, it's completely freezing. I think parts of me have actually frozen into blocks of ice."

"That's impossible. Frostbite, maybe."

"That's encouraging," said Lorelai scathingly.

"You're the one who dragged us out into the snow," reminded Luke. He grabbed the clothes she had discarded and put them by the heat vent, shrugging off his own jacket and mittens to dry too. "You made me eat filthy snow and you threw wads of ice at me and made us freeze our asses off."

"You didn't have to stay, you know."

"What?"

"You could've left, or gone back to the sleigh or something. I mean, if you really hated it that much." She seemed kind of guilty. "I didn't realize it bothered you so much."

"It wasn't that bad," admitted Luke gruffly, walking back over to the counter.

"Yeah?" Lorelai's eyes sparkled.

"It was sort of pretty. Though I still think it's an inconvenience. And it tastes horrible."

Lorelai's eyes lit up with her familiar Eureka look. She walked behind the counter and found a huge mixing bowl and disappeared outside.

"Lorelai? What are you doing?" he called after her.

A little bit later, Lorelai came rushing in. "Damn, forgot how cold snow could really be." She dropped the now-heavy bowl on the counter with a clunk, rubbing her exposed fingers vigorously.

"What is that?"

"A diabetic mob boss. Luke, you are so blind sometimes."

He peered in. "You brought me a bowl of snow?"

"Yes I did," she said proudly. She grabbed the maple syrup from the counter.

"What are you doing now- nothing involving feet doctors or mob bosses, please."

"I'm murdering a transvestite bathroom attendant for his lack of commitment to his niece's mission to free the lobsters from their tank imprisonment, like that crazy ex-child star."

"That one's new."

"Mad Libs, my friend, Mad Libs." Lorelai leaned over the counter and grabbed two big spoons. "Now this incredible concoction is, as you may have noticed, snow with maple syrup. Rory taught me this. She was about six, I think, and she was into the Boxcar Children, and in the back of one of them, there was a recipe. Snow with maple syrup. She immediately begged me to make it for her. It was July at the time, though, so we had to buy a bag of ice from the market and then jump up and down on it for hours before it became crushed enough to eat. We didn't have a blender back then. I took to throwing heavy objects at the ice after a while when our legs tired. I broke a giant silver figurine in the shape of a weasel that my mother had given to me. It was ugly anyway."

"And you're expecting me to eat this?" he said, watching her drizzle massive amounts of the thick, sugary syrup into the bowl.

"You said it tasted bad. Well, I'm making it taste good. And I promise, there's no pine cones in this one." She stirred the mixture up until it was brown and licked the spoon clean. "Mmmm."

"Snow by itself is disgusting. You mix it with sugar and starch and expect it to be better?"

"Come on, Luke, just try it. I guarantee your satisfaction or your money back."

He picked up a spoon and put a little on it. "If I die because of this…"

"…I hold all responsibility for it," said Lorelai, nodding and taking another heaping spoonful.

Luke put the spoon in his mouth. "It's not bad."

"Not bad! I got a not bad out of Luke Danes!" said Lorelai gleefully to an invisible audience.

"For something _you_ made it's not bad." He took another spoonful.

"And a second spoonful! Ladies and gentlemen, Luke Danes is actually mildly enjoying a food product not made of soy!"

Luke rolled his eyes. "It's… different."

"And I know you're now thinking of serving it in the diner and calling it…" She paused for dramatic effect. "The Lorelai. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

"Nope, your quotient of puppet-Luke has been filled for the day. No more taking advantage of me until tomorrow morning."

Lorelai smiled at him, her eyes twinkling. There were a few comfortable moments of silence as the two adults sat at a counter eating syrupy snow out of a mixing bowl with over-sized wooden spoons.

Lorelai watched him eat the last couple of spoonfuls and saw a flash of a grimace sneak across his face for a few seconds.

"Why are you eating this?" she said suddenly.

He looked up, surprised. "What?"

"Just now, you made a face. You don't like the snow."

"I like the snow fine."

"And if you don't like the snow, then why are you eating it?"

"Are you hearing me? I like the snow."

"I mean, if I didn't like something, I wouldn't eat it, which I have proved on many occasions involving oatmeal, artichokes, and this one really ill-fated honey-coated grasshopper."

"Some one tried to get you to eat a grasshopper?" said Luke, surprised. "Did they even _know_ you?"

"I mean, you even scraped the bowl with your spoon. You're going out of the way to eat this thing that you obviously dislike."

He sighed and then shrugged. "I don't know. You asked me to."

"You're eating it because I asked you to?" A flattered smile crept across her face. "Aw. You're sweet."

Luke got up with a shrug. "Whatever," he said, hiding the fact his knees had decided to turn to jello at her smile, which was a very unfortunate occurrence. "I better go clean this bowl or the syrup will stick."

"Ooh, can I help?"

"You want to clean the bowl?"

"Yes."

"You want to do something with food that doesn't constitute eating it or putting it in the toaster?"

"Yes."

Luke shrugged. "Curiouser and curiouser."

"Hey, Lewis Carroll, I happen to like cleaning dishes," said Lorelai indignantly. "It's my form of yoga, cleansing my soul, all that spiritual stuff."

"Because we all know what happens when you do yoga. You break limbs."

"I only broke one limb, thank you very much. That's in the _singular _form."

"Ah, but the so-called 'smug pretzel chick' broke two."

"It was a fracture," spat Lorelai, rolling her eyes. "And she didn't need her right arm bones anyway. She was a lefty. And the wrist can barely be considered a limb."

"Whatever you say," said Luke.

"And finally he catches on!" grinned Lorelai, grabbing the stick bowl and spoons and brushing past him in a flurry of electricity.

* * *

"Okay, we need soap…" 

"And the trusty scrubbing brush, always gotta have the trusty scrubbing brush."

"You mean you haven't named the scrubbing brush yet?"

"I haven't been previously acquainted with him, or her, yet. Oh, hello! You're cute. Luke, congratulations, it's a girl."

"Oh, come on. My scrubbing brush is masculine."

"Luke Danes just uttered that sentence. A tape recorder, anyone? Lucinda, do you have a tape recorder? No, probably not. Underwater isn't the best place to keep a tape recorder."

"Oh, so now she's Lucinda."

"She's always been Lucinda, Luke. You just never let her fully express herself to her fullest potential. Scrubbing brushes need a lot of TLC to grow and develop. I thought you of all people should know that."

"I must have missed that lesson in Scrubbing Brushes 101," said Luke dryly.

"It's okay, Lucinda. He's a little brusque, but he's a big softy on the inside. Did you know he cried during Old Yeller? You know, the part where his parents make him give up Yeller? I know, it thought it was a little sissy too."

"Okay, can we please stop conversing with my scrubbing brush and get to cleaning?"

"Aye aye, Captain," said Lorelai, bowing with a flourish, her curls bouncing. Lorelai set the bowl in the sink and squeezed a little soap in it. She yanked on the spout. "Look, it comes out!"

"Just turn on the water."

She carelessly shoved it back in and flicked the tap's switch… and instantly the pipe was writing around in the air with water flying through the air and all over both Lorelai and Luke, who were trying to duck the painfully powerful stream of water.

"What did you do?"

"I don't know!" she yelled frantically. "How do you stop it?"

"I don't know!"

Lorelai moved in and tried grabbing the convulsing pipe, but it just whirled faster. "I think I provoked it! It's getting mad!"

"Pipes don't _get_ mad!" cried Luke, exasperated and dripping.

"Yeah, then explain this crazy one's behavior!" The pipe splattered water across her face. "You need a therapist, buddy, because you are a pipe with problems!"

"Stop yelling at the pipe!"

"Well, do you have a better plan?" she said, spitting water out of her mouth.

Luke moved over to the sink, crouching low to avoid the frenzied spray of water. Even in the conditions, Lorelai didn't fail to notice the wonderful difference water could make in the way clothing stretched across this man's body. Luke leaned in and flicked the switch off, the water immediately stopping.

Luke surveyed his sopping kitchen, pots and pans knocked onto the floor by the force of the water. "And this is what happens when Lorelai Gilmore attempts to clean. I'm never letting you clean anything again."

"Like I'd want to clean anything else in here? Your sink is possessed."

Luke flicked the dripping wet hair out of his face. "How do I look?"

Lorelai pursed her lips and cocked her head, thinking it over. "Your face is okay, but your purse is too tight."

Luke sighed. "I think that, just this once, we'll let the syrup stick to the bowl."

"Capital plan."

* * *

Luke opened the door to his apartment. "Towels are in the bottom left hand drawer in the bathroom. I'll get you some clothes." 

Lorelai nodded and entered the bathroom, her wet feet sounding like suction cups as they walked across the hardwood. She pulled her shirt away from her body in disgust. The full blast of the water had hit her when she first turned it on, and she was completely soaking.

* * *

Luke bent down and rifled through his drawers, coming up with a slightly shrunken blue flannel shirt and some oversized boxers. He heard the bathroom door open. 

"Hey, I got some clothes for you. I mean, I know they're a little big-" His voice petered out as he turned. He had been expecting her to dry herself off with the towel. Instead, she had left her clothes on the bathroom floor and had the towel wrapped around her.

"I was really wet. My clothes were beyond saving without a dryer," she explained. She paused, leaning in. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, oh, yeah. I was just expecting- no, I'm fine." It was physically painful to stop his eyes from wandering to her long, tanned legs, and up to the bare expanse of her neck and the top of her chest.

"I'll just…" She walked over to him, holding out her hand.

"Yeah, the clothes. Here." He cleared his throat several times.

She picked up the boxers. "Garfield, huh? Got a fetish for the fat cat?"

"They were a present from my sister a couple of years ago. I've never worn them."

"That's surprising. I can see you in Garfield boxers." She bit her tongue the second the sentence flew out of her mouth. "Not that I picture you in boxers or anything."

"No."

"That'd be weird."

"Yes," he said, a smile covering his face nonetheless.

"Wipe that grin off your face, you Cheshire cat," she said, raising her eyebrows at him. "You're the one staring at my legs like you want to eat them."

Luke could find no reply for this. Lorelai grinned devilishly through his stuttering and retreated to the bathroom to redress. "Lorelai- 2. Luke- 0."

* * *

Lorelai came back a few minutes later with the flannel button down _very_ low and the boxers rolled up so high you couldn't see them under the fabric of the flannel, which swept down to a little higher than mid-thigh. Apparently it was Torture-Luke night, he noticed, as he strolled past her into the bathroom to quickly change. When he resurfaced, she had whirled over to the window and was looking out with fascination. "What's out there? Did Kirk try the Speedos in below zero weather again?" 

"If he had, do you think I'd be watching so intently?"

"My mistake. So what's the deal?"

"Snow!"

"What's so unusual about that? There's been snow since we went outside," he reminded her.

"Yeah, but now it's _falling_. It's new snow." Lorelai opened the squeaky window with difficulty. "Tell me, have you opened these windows since the invention of the wheel? Just checking."

"Don't tell me you want to open the window after all this. It's still freezing."

Lorelai stuck her head out, the cool winds immediately whipping her dark hair all around her face. "It's a good one. I can smell it. We'll be down a couple of feet by tomorrow." She nodded decisively. "About three feet, I'd think. Four at the most."

Luke looked at her with wonder. "You are amazing."

She flashed him a grin and moved over. "Come on, pull up an open window space. We got room."

Luke stood next to her, their shoulders colliding due to the small window, and stuck his head out. The wind was piercing. "It's freezing."

"It's bracing."

"It's annoying."

"It's magical!"

"You're hopeless."

"I'm brilliant."

Luke rolled his eyes.

"You can't beat the master," said Lorelai.

Luke smiled at her. "I'm learning."

With her blue eyes sparkling, her hair tousled by the wind, wearing nothing but his flannel shirt- she was mesmerizing.

"Maybe this whole snow thing isn't _so_ painful," he forced out.

The sparkle ducts in Lorelai's eyes went into overdrive as she smiled at him, his face inches from hers in the small opening. "I think I'm finally making an impact on you," she whispered, moving her face a little closer to his.

"I _know _you're making an impact on me," he murmured and he closed the remaining space between them. His face was centimeters from her, his breath hot on her curved lips. A few seconds of waiting, tension hanging in the air, and Lorelai put her hand to the back of his neck and pulled his lips onto hers.

Her mouth is soft, thought Luke.

Who knew Luke has such a talented tongue? thought Lorelai.

That bowl is going to be impossible to clean tomorrow, thought Luke.

I bet my dress is ruined, thought Lorelai.

Lucinda will have a tough time tomorrow, thought Luke.

It'll probably need dry cleaning, thought Lorelai.

Look at me, I'm already calling the brush Lucinda. Lorelai has corrupted me.

Luke's bathroom floor will be soaking.

Why am I talking about cleaning when I'm kissing Lorelai Gilmore?

Forget the damned bathroom, I'm kissing Luke.

They both pulled out of the window simultaneously, mouths still attached, as they moved over to the bed, no questions asked. They could see the desire and the passion in each other's eyes.

"Merry Christmas, Luke," smirked Lorelai, as she unbuttoned the flannel and dropped it to the ground, pushing him onto the bed.

"Ah, the magic of the holidays," he replied as he pulled her down on top of him.

* * *

The table was full minus two. 

"Where is she?" said Sookie frantically. "She should've been back over an hour ago!"

"What do you think is keeping her?" said Patty.

"Maybe the wild wolves finally got to her," said Bootsy, taking another swig of beer.

"We don't have wild wolves around here, Bootsy," snapped Gypsy.

"Not yet, anyway," said Kirk mysteriously.

"Why, sugar, planning to let loose a pack on the town anytime soon?" said Babette.

"Well, the idea hadn't yet crossed my mind. I was just remembering this one science-fiction motion picture I once experienced where all the pets in the town transformed into savage beasts due to contact with infected dry foods. Innocent Spaniels, Siamese cats, and canaries morphed into vicious wolves and lions and eagles."

"Oh my!" said Patty, startled at the notion.

"They tore people to pieces with their razor-sharp jaws and dug their claws and talons into the dismembered humans, bringing them back to their insane master, who lay in wait at a secret layer," continued Kirk solemnly. "He was using the human body parts to power his newest invention he was sure was going to help him succeed in conquering the world."

"That's festive," grunted Gypsy.

"It was a very successful movie its time. It had rave reviews in the 30s. Of course, now that we look back, the special effects were a little shoddy."

"This is very frustrating," grumbled a disgruntled Taylor. "I need to eat at precisely the same time every night or I have digestion problems. I won't be able to sleep a wink tonight."

"When the animals spoke, their mouths didn't move. It was very difficult to tell whether Princess or Walter or Drake was speaking."

"It's not like Mom to just stay out there without telling us," said Rory. "Maybe they're on a coffee break." She turned to Jess. "Aren't you even the slightest bit worried about the whereabouts of your uncle- for the reasons that he feeds you and gives you a paycheck if nothing else?"

He shrugged. "Nope. They're probably off having a little coffee break on his bedroom floor, if you know what I mean."

The room was silent as they all pondered this new theory.

"I bet they're not worrying about their 'whereabouts' currently," smirked Jess. "We shouldn't either."

At the head of the room, Jackson shrugged. "Alright then. Rune, the first course, please!"

* * *

Fishsticks, please! 

Although I will be off having a grand old time in the Europe… (where the history comes from! We have remodeled this building to how it looked over FIFTY years ago! No, surely not… no one was ALIVE then! And if you know what I'm talking about then I want to have your baby.), I will never be too travellacious to not want reviews. I can still read them from there, so leave a review. Don't make me resort to that nasty begging tactic. Or worse, genocide… aimed in this particular scenario to all those who do not review me. I know who you are.

Um, by the way, the fact that this is a one-shot constitutes that it's over, so if you, being the ignorant person you are. leave reviews saying 'continue' or 'update soon-' which has actually happened at the end of longer stories with a clearly marked ending- get ready to be disappointed. You've been warned.

Oh, and that movie Kirk was talking about? Doesn't exist. It's a shame, I know. It sounds like a box office knockout.

This has been your Muffin fix for the next month, reporting to you live from MII Studios. I'm Chester vanDwolen, see you next time.

And the thing is, I don't even like fishsticks. Seafood scares me.


End file.
